


Satellite

by MissSteph22



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2Russ - Freeform, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mention of past Russdel, Outer Space, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sleep, between phase 4 and 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 21:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSteph22/pseuds/MissSteph22
Summary: "I am a satellite, and I can't get back without you"Nightfall, when the world is but a gentle hush, Russel finds himself drawn to new pursuits. One night in the stars with 2-D, and he may find himself questioning the essence of 'Now'.





	Satellite

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Okay, so this fic took almost a year to write so I hope it's worth it and I hope you enjoy it! It's set between Phase 4 and Phase 5.

Satellite

Nightfall.

The world was grinding down to a halt, the sun melting into the dark. A gentle hush, tranquillity soothing the aches and pains of the day away into blissful slumber.

Most nights, this was just what Russel needed.

It helped him to concentrate on reading; he could spend several hours going through page after page of some elaborate plot. Lose himself in another world. Normally. In his hands, he held the novel, two pages staring up at him. Taunting, almost. He'd been trying, and trying, but the willpower was lost. A thriller, he'd picked this up at a charity shop two weeks ago while searching for vinyls to add to his collection. Two main characters - the philosophical wanderer going through life trying to find peace amidst the demons and the chaos around him, and his friend. The sunshine in a storm. The one who, despite managing to land himself into every kind of trouble imaginable, wears a smile. Hm. Russel feels like he's seen that somewhere before.

Sighing, he closed the book. He just wasn't in the mood for a thrill tonight.

He groaned as he got up from the bed, the temptation to lie there in sweet silent comfort too strong. Soft sheets, plump pillows... Perfect for someone who enjoys frequent naps. Russel crossed the room to place the book back with the others, neatly stacked in a pile.  He'd gathered quite a few over the years, not nearly as many as he perhaps would have liked however since his time was almost always occupied by recording and tours and interviews and photoshoots and... He wouldn't lie - they'd been really busy over the last year. _Humanz_ had thrust them back into the spotlight, pushing them from a quiet seven year gap to sudden stardom. It was a lot. Part of being in the band, he supposed. It's a load he chose to bear, with Murdoc's help of course.

Russel glanced at the numerous titles. _Fantastic Mr Fox._ , _Steal This Book_ , _Nineteen Eighty-Four_... Through cracked spines and yellow pages, their age was apparent. Some of the items in the pile were actually magazines. Like Russel's own appearance on the front cover of _DRUMMER,_ a rare moment in the limelight he kept all these years.  He was contentedly browsing his catalogue, until his eyes stopped short on one particular book that stood out from the rest.

 _The Outsiders_.

Straight away, he remembered. The enveloping heat, sat on the swing. June 3rd.

"Happy Birthday"

A familiar tightness in his chest, as he recalled the goofy grin he was flashed upon those words. The comforting warmth as they sat hand in hand in the empty park, watching the sun go down.

"I got you something"

He remembered the surprise quite well, the insistence that he didn't have to do _anything_ but there it was, a newly bought copy of S. E. Hinton's _The Outsiders_ because _of course_ he was going to surprise him. He always did. With a soft kiss, Russel thanked him.

He promised he'd start reading it when he got home.

Rendered motionless, Russel stared at the book, almost afraid to touch it. He stretched out his hand to gently brush his fingers against it, almost searching for something in its texture. Familiarity? Reassurance? Like the others, the spine had cracked. The book was a test of time, of years gone by. Hesitantly, he lifted it, cradling it in his hands. As he delicately turned a couple of pages, he noted the crinkled pages. He'd never forget the night he dropped it in the rain, rushing back home because it was late and they'd just had their first fight. Though morning had brought apologies and kisses, from then on, he felt a need, a deep internal need to preserve it. To protect it.

He couldn't bring himself to read the book again. Not after... not after the incident.

For a while, the book was a wound, its story painfully true to life. Russel remembered cursing it, both clinging to it and wishing he could forget it. But how could he ever forget when it came from him? His beloved.

 _Del_.

Russel winced a little; his name was barbed, stinging upon mentioning. It never gets easier. Because upon mentioning, there come the memories crashing in. Starts with the good - the hands touching under tables, the kisses on the sofa, the feeling of his body snuggled against his own. Then the bad... the blind panic, and screaming, crying, blood...

Clenching his eyes shut, he dropped his hand and turned away from the book. He had to stop doing this. Inhaling, he thought of this, of now, right here in his room. The white walls, the lingering smell of spray paint and the carcass rotting under his bed. He focussed his energy on sounds, _tried to_ , but resigning, reopened his eyes. The resounding silence in the house was unnerving. Unnatural, for a band anyway. Right about now, Murdoc should have been awake, without a doubt the noisiest with his tendency to bring people home for one of two reasons - a party or a roll in the sheets. Sometimes both. Granted, the latter hadn't been an issue as of late. In fact, neither has. He supposed that should have been a blessing.

He decided to stretch his legs for a bit, make a trip to the kitchen for something to drink before bed. He needed to clear his mind; maybe letting his thoughts fester in one place didn't help. Slowly, he made his way through the dim hallway, counting the cracks in the plaster on the way. One, two, three...

He tried to be as quiet as possible; he knew that Noodle had gone to bed a couple of hours beforehand. And 2-D, well, he wasn't exactly sure. Speaking of which...

Raising an eyebrow, he noted the open door, a stream of light spilling into the hall. Was he still up? Maybe he'd just passed out from exhaustion, forgetting to turn off the light and shut the door. Curious, he approached the door and peeked inside. There, he didn't find the sight of his bandmate sprawled out, limbs in all directions as he slept. Rather, he found him sitting upright on the bed, facing the window. In his hands was a notebook; he chewed on the end of a pen in thought, before scribbling something down. He seemed to be humming something. It sounded familiar, like it came from their last album.

_Beam a light on me_

_I am a satellite_

_And I can't get back without you.._

The melody was soft, but Russel felt that 2-D's voice was weighted with something more than that. Even as he hummed, there was something hypnotic and tender about the way he did so. He could see creases deepening as he frowned, a world weary expression masked only by the way his features lit up when he experienced what could only be described as a breakthrough, pen quickly being put to paper.

It took a little while before Russel realised he was staring. Quickly, he shifted his gaze to the floor and inched away from the doorway, hand still firmly gripped on its frame. It stayed there, even as he started edging further and further away from the door. In his cheeks, he could feel the temperature rising. He sighed inwardly. _Get a hold of yourself, man_.

"Russel?"

Tightly, his hand squeezed the doorframe as his heart stopped. _Shit._ He tentatively turned back and peeked in to find 2-D staring back at him, eyes wide and brimming with curiosity.

"Didn't know you was still up," the singer said, tilting his head inquisitively.

"Could say the same to you," Russel responded, still lingering in the doorway. "Whatcha doing?"

"Who me? Just writing some songs," he said, holding up his notebook. "I got a really good one in 'ere, y' want to read it?"

Russel supposed he wasn't exactly getting much sleep anyway; a few moments in here wouldn't hurt him. Besides, 2-D looked really keen on sharing what he'd been working on.

"Alright, show me what you got," he said, coming in. With a grin, 2-D patted an empty spot on the bed, a gesture for his bandmate to sit next to him. Once he was seated, 2-D handed Russel the small black notebook. It felt light in his hands, and he noted that stickers decorated it; small emblems of 2D's personality shining through. His handwriting was a little difficult to decipher at first, scrawling words and scribbles in red and black adorning every page. The notebook was opened on a page titled 'Magic City'.

"I started writing it when I was in Chicago, hence the name and all. Wrote a lot of these on tour," 2-D explained, before Russel started reading. Indeed, as he quickly flipped through the pages, he found that numerous songs were named after different locations. Realising that 2-D was waiting for a response, he started to read the song lyrics. After a moment, he chuckled inwardly.

"D'you like it?" 2-D's head tilted, an expectant look on his face.

"Yeah, it's... it's cool," Russel said, handing back the notebook. 2-D smiled appreciatively.

"Thanks Russ!"

A short silence passed before Russel spoke again, this time teasingly.

"Billboard on the moon?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Heh, yeah," 2-D said, scratching the back of his neck.

"What, uh... what inspired that?" Russel asked playfully. He didn't really need to know - he just assumed 2-D was high as a kite.

"Well," his bandmate began, shifting on the bed. "Sometimes I just like to look out the window at the sky when it's all twinkly 'n stuff. It's relaxing, really thera... um-"

"Therapeutic?"

"That's the word. I like to imagine what's going on up there, like what's on the moon and that. Pretty cool, don'tcha think?" His features were glowing with excitement as he flashed Russel a toothy grin.

"Yeah," Russel smiled back, as though for the first time, something within him flickering. He was unlocking the door to 2-D's mind, getting to know him _._ It was eye-opening. He felt himself strangely drawn in, wanting to know more about this man's love for the night sky, his imaginative theories on the moon.

"Gotta say though, I've been finding it a bit tricky tonight," 2-D began, looking back towards to the window.

"Hm?"

"Can't get one of our songs out of my head," he sighed.

"I think I know what you mean," Russel supplied, trying to follow his bandmate's gaze. It seemed as though he was inspecting the chipped paint on the windowsill. "Heard you singing it earlier. It was, uh, nice."

"Thanks," he said quietly, still staring at the windowsill. He sharply inhaled and suddenly turned back, as though imbued with a new sense of confidence. "I mean, yeah, it is nice but... heh, it's a bit old now isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Russel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well it's part of the past now." 2-D shrugged. He spoke freely, leaning back on the bed. "Got to start moving forward. New songs, new pathways. 'S all about living in the now."

Russel blinked, perplexed.

"Then why are you still singing it?"

"Oh." The question had visibly thrown him off guard; the singer leaned forward and scratched his chin. After a moment's pause, he settled on an answer. "Because I like it, I guess."

The pair fell into a silence, as 2-D picked up his notebook and stared at the lyrics before him. His features became strained as he tried to focus on what to write. His mind was a whirlwind of scattered thoughts, words, and phrases; sometimes on nights like these it was hard to just... reach up and grab one. He let his gaze travel to the window, to the night sky, and in doing so, his features softened. It didn't go unnoticed, as his bandmate continued to watch him.

Russel wondered if he should say something, if he should leave. He wasn't sure if 2-D wanted to be left alone to finish writing songs or if he wanted peace to look out the window for a bit. He was struggling to make up his mind, and therefore found himself stuck on the bed not really doing anything. Just watching him, rubbing his forearm.

He couldn't quite tear himself away.

There was something he couldn't put his finger on about 2-D. Something about him... It's not that he was indecipherable, though as of late he's been acting most peculiar. No, there was something about the singer that threw Russel off-track. Especially tonight, with his ramblings about the sky and then there's his stickers and his notebook and his smiling and- Rubbing at his temples, he groaned inwardly. He admitted, he felt the slightest twinges of guilt for having not paid this much attention before; he's known the man for how long, exactly? And it's only now that he's really starting to _see_ him.

"Sky looks pretty, don't it Russ?"

Snapped out of his stupor, Russel blinked.

"Uh... y-yeah, it is," he lied, trying not to draw attention to himself.

2-D hummed contentedly, and continued to gaze out of the window, leaning further back. Russel, still debating in his mind whether or not to leave, felt drawn to the window, and decided to take a glance up at the night sky, even if it was just for a couple of minutes.

There wasn't an awful lot to see from the angle he was sitting at, but he could appreciate what he did see. He tried to appreciate what 2-D was seeing.

Russel envisioned it in his mind, trying to match it to the scene above him. Several stars swirled across an inky canvas like glitter, burning bright. A red light beating like a pulse, an airplane gliding by, going to destinations unknown. Though shielded by the murky fog of lamplight, miles from earth there exists a galaxy; constellations sparkling in the endless night painting the tales of ancient folklore. A natural artwork. He can see the soft navys, the vivid violets. It was easy to see why 2-D loved this. He can feel the silence of a space inhabited by both nothing and everything. What must it be like up there, he wonders. To float without cares, drifting through a world of colour, of beauty, _serenity._ Weightless. He pictures lonely satellites, searching for home, with only the stars, glimmering fireflies, to guide the way.

But it could be so beautiful.

Suddenly, he felt something on his shoulder, bringing him back to earth. Turning his head, he was met with a shock of blue hair, right there, under his nose. He froze on the spot, unsure what to do.

"You comfy?" The question was a risk. He didn't want 2-D to misinterpret his words. He didn't want him to think he's not okay with this gesture, that he's not okay with this kind of intimacy because he... well, what _does_ he want? The words fizzle out in his head, a strange feeling coming over him. He was met with silence. "...D?"

The only thing Russel could hear was the sound of breathing, steady and soft. He saw 2-D's body, free of any tensions, rise and fall with each breath, a sure sign that he'd somehow managed to drift off to sleep.

He must have been tired, Russel thought to himself. Unsure of what his next move should be, he tried to sit perfectly still. He didn't really want to disturb him, though as he found, perhaps it was 2-D that was disturbing _him_. 2-D's soft wisps of hair tickled his neck. When he inhaled, Russel could smell him. Of course he could smell cigarettes and weed, but the longer he stayed in this proximity, the more he found himself lifted by the refreshing scent of peppermint. The sickly sweet aroma of butterscotch clouded his rationality. Something about this was playing havoc with him and he didn't know wh- _Russel._ He hit the brakes, catching himself.

Letting out a long breath, Russel looked back to the window. He thought of the stars, the lovely pictures he'd painted in his mind. Closing his eyes, he took himself back there. Thousands of stars illuminating the night. Sighing, his muscles relaxed. He found peace in visualising this place; the weight of the world lifted as he soared into orbit. But this time, he saw something much bigger. Crisp and clear, like snow. The moon. A smile tugged at his lips as he thought of 2-D and his billboard. He tried to imagine it there, standing tall and proud. Of course he would stick a billboard on the moon. And 2-D would be right there, by his billboard on his shining moon, waving enthusiastically with the biggest of grins.

There was something quite... charming about it, actually.

It took a long time for Russel to open his eyes again. In fact, when he did open them, he felt odd, as though he had woken up from a dream. His body felt tired, his mind hazy. He tried checking his watch but the digits were concealed by the darkness of the room. Darkness. Blinking, he cast his gaze to the window, noting how different it looked. Nightfall no more. He had woken up in the dead of night. Sighing, he tried to move but was quickly stopped by the weight on his shoulder. How could he forget. Peering down, he found 2-D, still fast asleep by his side.

There was no point in whispering his name; he looked like he was in a deep sleep. Gently, Russel tried to shake his bandmate, not really expecting a response. Nothing. That confirmed it. Biting his lip, he wondered what he should do. He was fighting to stay awake; his unexpected nap left him wanting more.

He had to get up.

As he lifted himself, he tried his best to steady 2-D, keeping him upright on the bed so not to let him fall. Once he was standing, he carefully tried to lift 2-D's legs up onto the bed, turning his body so that he could lie down. One hand was gently cradling his upper half, keeping him secure. And then delicately, he brought his head to the pillow, fingers buried in his blue locks. Russel found himself moving with 2-D as he did so, falling deeper... and deeper...

That was when 2-D started mumbling.

"...W-what...." He was slurring, his voice laced with sleep. His eyes were still closed. Russel gently shushed him.

"It's alright, 'D. Go back to sleep."

"I... I fell 'sleep, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. It's cool." Russel scanned the place for a blanket, eventually finding one crumpled at the foot of the bed. In his hands, it felt soft and thick. _This should keep him warm_ , he thought to himself, proceeding spread it out, covering 2-D. He instinctively snuggled into the material, wrapping it around himself. "In fact, I fell asleep too."

2-D let out a breathy chuckle, a smile gracing his features while he lay there, half asleep. He looked so carefree, like the world could do no wrong right here, right now in this very moment. But Russel knew the truth. He knew that smile had weathered many storms. 2-D's words from earlier lingered in his memory.

"... night Russ," he mumbled, head lolling to  the side.

"Night 'D," Russel returned, watching as 2-D drifted back to sleep. He must have really needed the rest.

Darkness shrouded the room, now silent. Russel felt... strange. A deep-seated feeling in his gut that he couldn't shake off. Tonight. He didn't think he could feel the way he felt again, a cosmic feeling of life pulsing through him, a weightlessness as he shrugged his fears away, getting high on sensation. Drifting by, taking life for what it is. With him.

But he couldn't. Not when-

_Why are you still holding on to him?_

The question burned in his mind. His fists clenched as he thought of June. Thought of swings. Thought of everything that his heart still wanted to cling to.

_Because I love him._

It was the truth, the truth he used to defy his conscience. All those years, years that he could never reclaim. His heart ached for his touch, for his kiss. Of course he did. Because he never stopped. But neither did time. From that fateful day, up until now.

Now.

It's exactly what he had to do every time the wounds started opening. Moving on was never going to be easy, but placing himself in the now was a start. Right here, in the present. Sighing, Russel turned to leave the room.

At the door, he stopped.

Something about 2-D's words resonated deep inside him, as though he was realising it for the first time. Could it really be that easy? To, in spite of where the past had taken him, what the past had given him, live so spectacularly in the now?

His hand rested on the doorframe, as he contemplated. Turning his head, he gazed back into the room at 2-D's sleeping form. The peace, the joy on his features. The feeling it sparked.

Russel felt his heart come to life in that very moment.

_Living in the now._

Maybe, just maybe... he would.

 


End file.
